I hesitate to give credence to anything published in this rubbish supermarket tabloid, but is the Duchess of Cambridge actually pregnant?
In spite of the bake sale tomorrow in the posh retirement community, life goes on, there's a meal at Emmanuel this evening. I hauled out a Betty Crocker cake mix and threw some milk, dark and white chocolate chips into the mixture. They look almost good enough for tomorrow's bake sale, but would never pass the taste test, although they will be alright for the youth of Emmanuel who want something sweet after their lasagna this evening. The Food Police would give them fruit, and someone might bring some. But with me they get unhealthy cakes full of fat and sugar and chocolate, preservatives and chemicals. yum, yum.
Americans have very discerning palates, I think they cook better than we do, certainly better than I do, and I attribute it to a lifetime of the Food Network Channel. I have learned more about cooking in the last five years than I ever learned in the previous 70.
These are said Betty Crocker cakes.
I will eat the funny little one in the top row which didn't even make the grade to Emmanuel this evening.
As you see, I have set myself up with a temporary work station for all this baking I've been doing.
I delivered the cakes to Emmanuel but didn't stay for the meal, I had too much to do at home returning the house to half way normal.
I rang Rachel today and everything is good to go for tomorrow. They took my little notices and flyers round, delivered them to all the residents. And it will be day 3, the final day, of a police/fire service appreciation, so while these police officers and firemen are being appreciated they might also buy our cakes.
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